


Dancing On My Own

by thatsmallbrit



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas Ball, F/M, I'm Sorry, John's POV, M/M, Oblivious John, Sad Sherlock, Sherlock's POV, Teenlock, Unrequited Love, one-sided, this is quite sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 16:18:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8851681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsmallbrit/pseuds/thatsmallbrit
Summary: Sherlock and John attend their school's Christmas Ball, however it takes a slight turn for the worst on Sherlock's part.
Inspired by the Callum Scott version of 'Dancing On My Own'





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this was written in an hour while listening to 'Dancing On My Own' on repeat. It's not perfect, but I wanted to post it now while I'm procrastinating an assignment before I forget it exists. So yeah, enjoy, I'm sorry, John's POV will be up soon :)

Ridiculous. All of this Christmas Ball rubbish was completely ridiculous. The unnecessary formal attire for what looked to be the beginnings of a house party at the house of a cheerleader or rugby player. Sherlock didn’t even want to be there. He just wanted to stay at home with John, like what they did every Friday. He wanted to plan out another experiment, or an adventure for them to share when they were old enough to travel the world without parents or older siblings following them. He didn’t want to be stuck in the school sports hall, surrounded by his peers (whom he shared a mutual disliking to), wearing the suit his parents bought him for his last birthday. But John wanted to be there, so Sherlock went with him. He made the effort for John. Also John had promised him dancing, and Sherlock loved dancing.

  
It was fairly obvious, but John was everything to Sherlock. He was the one person who truly accepted him for who he was, flaws and all. In fact, he goes out of his way to make Sherlock appreciate his flaws and accept them as a part of who he was. John Watson was perhaps the best thing to happen to Sherlock Holmes. He made grey skies blue for him, he made him feel wanted when it mattered the most, he made him knock down the walls that he hid behind, all without realising. In fact, the list of things John had done for Sherlock without realising is endless, and that’s why Sherlock loved him. And that’s why Sherlock would do anything for him.

  
And so Sherlock stood in the school sports hall, a plastic cup of punch in his hand, the vast majority of the student body around him, waiting for John to come back to his side.

  
It’s important to mention that although John was everything to Sherlock, he wasn’t his only friend. Sherlock had a few friends, though, he refused to admit that they were friends. He had Greg Lestrade, Molly Hooper, Mike Stamford, and they could all see how Sherlock felt about John. In fact most people could, it was only John who couldn’t.

  
“That’s not spiked, is it?” Greg Lestrade joked as he walked up to Sherlock and clapped his hand on the taller boy’s shoulder. Greg was in his second year of Sixth Form and three years older than Sherlock, but he always made special efforts to see that his friends were well – well, to see that Sherlock was well.

  
“Of course it’s not.”

  
“I’m joking, grumpy bum,” Greg teased and squeezed Sherlock’s shoulder. He sipped his own punch, then loosened his tie. “See anyone you like?”

  
“No.”

  
“God, you really are in a grump today, aren’t you? What’s up?”

  
“Nothing. I’m just waiting for John to come back,” Sherlock mumbled and looked down at his shoes.

  
Greg couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He’d seen John. He was flitting from group to group, talking to his rugby team, the cheerleaders, and all his friends. But he’d stopped to talk to one person for longer than anyone else. He was talking to Mary, the captain of the school netball team. Like everyone knew that Sherlock had feelings for John, everyone knew that Mary had the ‘hots’ for John. The only difference was that she was confident enough to make a move.

  
“Mate, I don’t think he’s gonna be back for a while,” Greg admitted quietly and gently shook his drink to stir it up more.

  
Sherlock shook his head and quietly replied, “no, he will, he said he’d be right back.”

  
The expression on Sherlock’s face broke Greg’s heart. This boy was so completely in love, but was too scared to act on it. It pained him to say it, but Greg knew he had to. He couldn’t let Sherlock stand around waiting all night. “He’s with Mary,” he told him quietly, with a sad smile.

  
Sherlock looked up at Greg slowly. He looked empty. He blinked a few times, then slowly nodded. “I see,” he murmured and cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get some fresh air,” he added before handing Greg his punch and walking away.

  
He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that John had actually forgotten about him. So many emotions were flying around Sherlock’s head. He was upset, he was angry, he was disappointed, he was annoyed at himself, everything was going so fast. He wasn’t even looking where he was going, he probably wasn’t even walking the right way, he just wanted to get out. He ended up in a quiet corner and leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm his threatening panic attack. After holding his head in his hands for a short while, he finally looked up - which was probably the worst thing he could have done.

  
Right in front of him, John and Mary were in each other’s arms, slowly swaying to the music, like every other couple in the room. And all Sherlock could do was watch. He watched as they stared into each other’s eyes. He watched as they span on the spot. He watched as they slowly pressed their lips together.

  
‘ _Why didn’t he choose me?_ ’ Sherlock thought, a tear forming in his eye. ‘ _Why wasn’t I good enough? Why can’t you see me, John? I’m right here! Why can’t you see me?!_ ’

  
He finally managed to tear his eyes away from the dancing couple and went back to holding his head in his hand, letting a few of the tears fall. How could he think that John would choose him? How could he think that John would miraculously be interested in him after four years of friendship? How could he be so stupid to allow himself to fall for John Watson?

  
He knew he shouldn’t have gone to the Christmas Ball. He knew he should have stayed at home and finished his book. But he wanted to be with John. He wanted to spend the night dancing with him, learning all the absurd popular dance routines that John and spent weeks going on about. He wanted to do that all night, just him and John. But obviously that was too much to ask for, if he wanted to dance, he’d have to dance alone. John was obviously not that interested in teaching Sherlock any dance routines.

  
He leaned against the wall again, looking at John and Mary dance as the song came to a close. John still hadn’t noticed he was there, even as the ‘mood lighting’ was changed to make the room brighter. John kissed Mary again, and Sherlock felt like he’d been punched in the gut. It was real, he wasn’t imagining it. John had chosen Mary.

  
It was all too much.

  
Sherlock rushed over to John and tapped him on the shoulder as a more fast paced song started to play, one that everyone seemed to know the routine to.

  
“Sherlock! There you are!” John said as he took his arms from around Mary. “It’s one of the dances I was telling you about, it’s the Macarena!” He said happily and started to join in with the dance. “Just copy me,” he said with a big smile.

  
Sherlock shook his head and started walking backwards. “I just came to say goodbye,” he said, just loud enough for John to hear. “You chose Mary… to dance with, I mean. You chose to dance with Mary,” he rambled and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, a lot quieter, then turned to walk away.

  
As he walked out of the sports hall, he couldn’t hear a thing, just white noise filling his ears. He couldn’t hear his peers singing along with the songs, he couldn’t hear the shouting in the corridor, he couldn’t hear John calling his name.


End file.
